


Better than Fiction

by the_fox333



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11068893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fox333/pseuds/the_fox333
Summary: Being the only librarian in a small town can lead to some... pleasant interactions.





	Better than Fiction

**Author's Note:**

> tfw you spend an hour writing 1.4K words expressely for the purpose of making one specific person happy, and then break off your friendship with them a year later... such is life
> 
> anyway this fic is hereby dedicated to all the awesome Pearl self-shippers out there. i love y'all, and Pearl does too <3
> 
> [NOTE: i did a lil year-later revision but AO3 is being a meanie and breaking my precious work! i'm trying my hardest to fix it; everything ought to be okay within a day or so]

Librarian wasn't exactly the most interesting job in the world, but it certainly led to some interesting encounters, even in a small town. You had snickered as you watched Lars spy on Buck Dewey and his friends, given a sympathetic smile every time Mr. Smiley checked out a book on stress relief, and gotten into more than one discussion of the modern fast-food industry with Mr. Fryman. Even silent Onion's checkouts always brought a smile to your face, whether it was a picture book for babies or the latest geological survey of the Midwest as published in the Empire City Investigator. But there was one patron above all that stuck with you like no other each and every time they came around.

The first time you saw Pearl was shortly after you began your first summer at the Buddwick Public Library. Tourists weren't uncommon during the hotter months, so you didn't look twice at the tall, pale-skinned woman wearing a translucent skirt and ballet shoes. It was only when she approached the counter with a stack of books almost as high as her arms were long that you examined her more thoroughly. Her sky-blue eyes darted nervously from side to side, as if scanning the room for danger. Checking through the stack she had selected, you couldn't manage to divine any sort of pattern. There were more than a few books on homeschooling a child, but what about automotive repair? Trigonometry? Did she plan to teach economic theory to a toddler? You had admittedly seen stranger, but that didn't mean you couldn't question it. And besides, you had never seen her around town before, and most tourists only checked out a book or two during their stay. She did know she had to return them, right?

Much to your surprise, the mystery woman pulled out a perfectly valid library card under the name of "Pearl Rose" and handed it to you, stooping to gather her books together. Her checkout record contained a few books here and there on pop culture and geography, with no late fees, missing books, or even renewals. Her card had been registered and kept valid ever since records were kept; not even the signature had changed. You frowned slightly at that. She didn't look a day over 20. And yet there was something about her that made you think that might be a misjudgment, something in the way she carried herself that betrayed the sort of wisdom that comes only with age.

The woman had turned and was on the verge of leaving when you had an impulse. "What's your name?" you asked, immediately regretting it. Her name was displayed very clearly on her card, which was still in your hand. She'd think you a fool at best, or a creep at worst.

The woman seemed surprised that you had addressed her, turning her head back to look at you. The large oval pearl on her forehead which you had somehow missed on your first examination caught the light, lending her an ethereal quality. "Oh, yes?" she asked uncertainly. "Have I forgotten something? I don't exactly do this often." She laughed nervously, and something about it sent a sudden pang of affection to your chest. Thinking about her words, you jumped and extended your arm to hand her the card. The two of you fumbled for a moment, her trying to free a hand and you looking for a way to wedge it into the stack of books, before she plucked it gratefully from your fingers in a way you could only describe as elegant. You couldn't explain it if you tried, but 

Once more, she turned to leave, glancing back as an afterthought. "It's Pearl," she said. "My name, that is."

"Pearl," you repeated softly as the door swung open, letting the hot summer breeze in before it was quelled by the air conditioning. It was a name you wouldn't forget soon- or ever, for that matter.


End file.
